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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333349">Sweetheart painted red</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePineapplePop/pseuds/PurplePineapplePop'>PurplePineapplePop</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel of Death Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Men Crying, Menstruation, Shapeshifter Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Trans Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:40:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePineapplePop/pseuds/PurplePineapplePop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil wakes up in the living room, confused as can be considering that he fell asleep in the bed with Technoblade the night before. He finds Techno has started his menstrual cycle and began a deep clean on their bed after bleeding on it. Techno is a tiny bit reluctant about the help Phil has to offer, but he's quick to accept it and love the small shows of affection Phil provides. </p><p>Aka, techno starts his period and phil provide some comfort.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Technoblade/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>307</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sweetheart painted red</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There’s confusion blossoming in Phil’s mind as he half-heartedly leans up from his spot on the couch. Silently, he wonders when the fuck he actually got on the couch. He’s almost certain that he had fallen asleep in his bed last night, Techno held tight between his arms, limbs entangled as the shapeshifter sought out comfort in the man’s physical contact. The week had been rough, after all, after so many mishaps with so many things. Their farm got snowed in and while, yes, it could still grow with the frost and whatnot, that didn’t mean it didn’t make things harder and Technoblade had been less than up for the challenge. It didn’t help that Carl got out of his pin, as well as a handful of the dogs on their hound army passing away after Edward unintentionally took the block that was the entrance to their space, not to mention Edward passing away after a mishap with said hound army. Techno had sobbed when he buried them and Phil was still trying to process their deaths accordingly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stands up after he manages to untangle himself from the thick blanket that swamps his form. The house sounds so empty, sounds so desolate without Edward’s hums and odd noises that never seemed to end. They had ended, though, in a blaze of purple blood that Techno had cleaned up, thorough as can be. It sat heavy on Phil as he stood, making his way around the home to find Techno, to see where his mate was. He searches the bottom floor, finding it empty, which isn’t all that surprising. Techno tends to not go towards any of the bottom layers if he can avoid it, only using the base for storage and such. It doesn’t take but a few moments to skim past those, looking in the upper floors with his brows slightly furrowing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dully, he makes note of one of the heavy blankets in the dryer, a handful of others resting atop the washer but not yet started. However, that dull note turns into a primary one the instant he realizes what’s actually going on, doing a double take as he walks back down the stairs. Techno had a habit of waiting until Phil basically forced him to wash the sheets, even going months at a time before doing so if Phil would allow it. Techno claimed it was because if he could avoid it, then he would never let go of Philza’s scent, something that reminded Techno of </span>
  <em>
    <span>home.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He often gets that comment, actually, which he thinks more has to do with the Angel of Death thing, about dying in comfort. He frowns, making his way through the upper layers of the house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He makes his way to the very top, finding Techno in their room, stripping the last bit of the bed. Fuck, their bed always had so many layers between Phil’s nesting instincts and Techno’s instincts to have a safe haven, of course neither could have a bed that wasn’t layers upon layers of comfort. The underlying buzz of his energy is apparent, the room buzzing with it. It always does, the blood god holding an energy that no one else could compare to. And Phil can especially feel it now, as well as the underlying metallic scent, though it’s light beneath the heavy scent of the burning candle, cherry comforting. Techno loves chery, Phil thinks lightly as he peers at his mate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno sniffles, weakly wiping at a few tears on his face. His cheeks are red, as well as a bit beneath his eyes, which are puffy. Techno’s a pretty cryer, something Phil will forever be jealous of, though he isn’t thinking of that right now as he slips into the room, carefully knocking on the door to get the shifters’ attention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The younger mans’ eyes flip upwards and he shifts a small bit, sniffling again and using the back of his hand to wipe at his face once more. “Morning, Phil,” Techno says softly, “How’d you sleep?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil’s eyes flicker to the large window, finding it to be light outside. Techno’s only up at night, which Phil realizes is concerning now, the curtains open as the other tries to play off whatever is happening. Phil sighs and slowly makes his way froward, brows furrowing slightly. “It would have been better if I were still laying with you, Techno,” the man states lightly, moving to gently cup the other’s cheek. Techno is a good foot and a half taller, but he immediately leans down, pressing his cheek to the warm hand as his eyes flit away. “What’s wrong,” he asks quietly, using his thumb to wipe a streak of salty liquid. Techno’s eyes slip shut and his lips purse. “What’s got you up so early?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I started,” he states quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Started what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My cycle.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dots connect as he hears that, realizing what Techno meant. His face flushes with a gentle blush as he realizes that, yeah, he definitely should have realized what the first statement meant a lot sooner. He mered hums, though, and pulls the other down into a careful hug, wings wrapping around him instantly. “It’s almost three weeks early, Tech. That isn’t good.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Techno whispers from where he’s tucked into Phil’s shoulder. “It happens sometimes, biology crap and all that. Just a sign of the stress.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. Have you showered yet?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I wanted to get the blood out of the blankets before it stained.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is your back spasming,” Phil quietly asks after Techno shifts a tiny bit, clearing his throat and ducking his head the tiniest bit deeper. Phil immediately brings a hand down, rubbing at the knots in Techno’s lower back. The shapeshifter had a tendency to get severe spasms, ones that would ache for hours at a time if his cycles were bad enough. Phil is almost certain this one is going to be one of them, watching as Techno pulls away just enough to straighten. His tear-stained face says it enough without any actual words needing to be said. “Do you want me to finish up the laundry for you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to be a burden, Phil, I can get it mys-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not a burden,” Phil interrupts as soon as he realizes what’s going on, “You never have been and you never will be. I want to help you and it’s my bed, too, so I should help, anyway. I know it’s rough when you have to wash the sheets and dealing with this shit probably hasn’t helped one bit.” He brings a hand down to carefully hold onto Techno’s own. Lacing their fingers together. “Come on, handsome, lets get you a warm bath started and then I’ll finish up the laundry. You can sleep in after and we can cuddle on the couch. Does that sound good?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno nods slowly, heaving out a slightly choked cry. Phil keeps a dark wing wrapped tightly around Techno and leads him to the downstairs bathroom. The upstairs one currently has a handful of sheets soaking in it and while, ideally, that would be the best for right now, Phil isn’t willing to take the time he’ll need to drain the tub and such for this. So, instead, he settles for second best and supplies Techno with hot water. He watches as Techno slowly slips into it, body going on ply and eyes slipping closed as he leans back. Phil waits until he has confirmation that Techno is feeling at least somewhat better before slipping away, kissing the top of the others’ forehead one time before truly leaving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He washes the clothes, ensuring the blood is out of them before even considering the dryer. Techno, he knows, will want to be swaddled in his blankets when he gets dressed, that he’ll want to be swaddled and lay with Phil. It’s the same routine as it always will be and the blond finds himself smiling fondly as he recounts the week previous, where they had spent a good portion of it resting and cuddling. He wonders how many people would laugh at the thought that Technoblade was one for cuddles, that he would constantly drift towards Phil and just hug the man like a koala. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, though, he helps Techno wash his hair, fingers gentle, lips even gently as he kisses worry-bitten lips. And Techno takes it all in happily, milking the hair washing with a smile and blush. He enjoyed the gentle touch, the softness of skilled, calloused hands. Technoblade fell in love with the act of affection. Normally, it would take no more than ten to maybe fifteen minutes for Technoblade to finish his bath entirely, but he enjoys Phil’s act of comfort and affection, chirps in time with the love he feels and certainly won’t take it for granted as he leans into the touch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He loves when Phil pats his hair dry, using a fluffy towel. He purrs quietly and lets his eyes close, melting. Phil is so gentle, always so gentle with every bit of Techno when he needs to be. Fuck, Phil is the only person who will ever be gentle with the war-worn warrior, the only one willing to risk what they thought the god may consider pity. Techno didn’t consider it pity. He had when he was younger, when the two were teenagers and Techno had just saved the annoying, cocky blond from a hoard of piglins wanting their gold back. He had thought the gentle touch and careful words were out of pity, that every offer of food and friendship was out of pity for the barefoot orphan who kept to himself and lacked loyalties. It was a lie, he knows now, as he leans his head back and lets pink and blue eyes accordingly meet with green ones. It had never been pity, just how Phil was. They could physically fight, of course, they had to train somehow, but the undertones afterwards when Techno cleans their wounds and Phil brews potions is so… so </span>
  <em>
    <span>soft</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Techno knows it could never be pity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’re you feeling, Love,” Phil whispers as he brings a hand up, raking a hand through the hair collected at the side of Techno’s face. Curious eyes flit to sharp talons, to their gentle caressing. He leans into it without hesitation. “Are you doing better now?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods just the tiniest bit. “I need to get dressed, though,” he says softly, slowly pulling himself away. “You know, before I bleed everywhere again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil nods and presses a kiss to the others’ forehead. “Do you want me to leave you alone right now?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” Techno more asks than anything, his voice quiet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately, the angel of death gives his nod and slips out of the room, leaving Techno with the clothes he needs. It’s almost endearing, that Phil knows what to provide to make Techno comfortable when even the shapeshifter himself has no idea what. It’s easy, some boxers specifically made to accommodate for any need of sanitary napkin, a loose pair of shorts (that Techno would be honest, barely even covered his ass), as well as a large hoodie, one that was Phil’s, with slits in the back for his wings as well. And Techno gets dressed as quickly as he can after he’s dried his body off enough, letting the thick waves of pink fall over his shoulders as he adjusts the hoodie, pulling the sleeves up just like he always does, letting the fabric bunch around the folds of his arms, between his elbows and he slips out of the bathroom, feeling less than his best but certainly better than he had earlier. His tail flickers from side to side in a dangerous motion, wary as he finds the other hauling an armful of blankets down the steps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno follows after him, quiet. It doesn’t take much for Techno to just fall into silence, years of being alone accommodating to provide for his lack of vocal expertise. He could remember when he was younger, when he would sit alone for weeks on end, only ever talking to Chat, who was loud and angry at any and all times. They’re quiet now, though the headache from earlier caused his mind to flare. He was less than thrilled now, though he settles on the couch, idly watching as Phil mulls about the home, tossing blankets and other things at the man resting on the couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the two fall into a rhythm. Phil puts on music, playing it softly before slipping onto the couch and Techno crawls so he can lay atop the blond. It’s funny, honestly, finding Techno with his head across the mans’ chest. Techno is a good whole foot taller, after all. Techno’s head is laid on Phil’s chest, the man held up against the back of the couch, tucking the other against himself and smiling fondly as he hums quietly along with the song. It doesn’t matter if he’s actually on tune or not, no, because it never has with them. It only matters that the two are comfortable, hands running through pink hair, arms tucked around a muscled waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re quiet for a long handful of moments. Techno doesn’t find the need to speak and Phil is more than content with letting his mate hold up end of silence. That’s what they’re like, the two of them, and it’s nice. Techno props his chin on Phil’s chest and peer sup at those vivid, green eyes, his fond expression matching Phil’s own. It’s nice, that they can sit like this, coexisting, not needing to actually do too much of anything. And he loves how Phil doesn’t hesitate to kiss his forehead once more, smiling with that gentle expression that makes Techno want to kiss him until he can’t breathe, blue in the face, lips swollen red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leans up at the thought, straddling Phil’s lap and leaning to kiss the other accordingly. His lips press against soft lips, ones that are chapped and slightly rough against Techno’s own, but Techno knows he isn’t much better, not with how often he worries at his own lips and how many times he’s bitten off skin again and again. He knows Phil can absolutely feel the bite mark from earlier, when Techno had woken up and tried to suppress his sobs long enough to at least get Phil downstairs before sobbing, biting so hard that his lips were bleeding and chunks were out. They’re sensitive now and Techno regrets having to pull away because of the pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” Phil whispers as he looks up at his mate. His hands are settled on Techno’s hips, carefulling avoiding the dip in his waist that Techno hates being reminded of at this time of the month. No, instead, he focuses on the dip in his hips, where thigh connects to his side, the dip that Techno was insecure about but not because of his gender. He could live with wide hips, since that was more or less a shapeshifter thing, but he was learning to handle it. He was so much better with it than he had been years ago, when he was so insecure about his weight and constantly did everything in his power not to look feminine, to a degree so extreme that he would avoid people all together so he wouldn’t actually have to present at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too,” Techno whispers in a quiet voice. “I am sorry for wakin’ you up this morning, though.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S’okay, happens to the best of us.” Phil smiles kindly. “Did you carry me down the stairs or something?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods. “Yeah, I didn’t wanna wake you but you ended up waking up a couple of hours after I put you down here, anyways, so I guess it didn’t even matter.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should have just woken me up, I could have helped you get everything cleaned up faster.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno shakes his head, lips pursing. “It’s not your fault, Phil, so it isn’t your problem to deal with.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your cycle isn’t your fault, either.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Either way you look at this, Techno, it seems like internalized misogyny or internalized transphobia.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Technoblade’s lips purse at that comment. He does, he realizes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your cycle happens, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span> happens, you can’t control that. I love you and I’ve chosen to live with and spend the rest of my life with you, so, whatever problem you have, it isn’t just your problem, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> problem. And I want to help you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> when it’s something like this.” He carefully pats at Techno’s cheek. Techno leans into it, his own hand overlapping Phil’s. “You’re amazing and I love you, Techno, please do not forget such.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Technoblade hums, smiling lightly as he hears that. He leans forward to kiss the other’s forehead, hands cupping his face. “Don’t forget that I feel the same for you, Phil.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never will, Techno.” </span>
</p>
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